I have finally got another day off, but don't have another one until Turkey Day! Can you believe that BS...oh well, the x-mas shoppers are out in full force. And might I say a whee bit early this year. DAMN THEM!
As you can see I am not a big fan of the typical holiday shopper, and as the big day gets closer, the more pissy they seem to get. Seriously, I have been behind the front lines at x-mas for way too long. This is going to be my last x-mas...I don't think that I can do the insanity anymore.
Ok doke, I do have other things that I can talk about. Really, this is just the beginning...you will be hearing more rants about this subject as it gets into full swing.
So on a lighter note, Gabe and I went to the UNC book sale (it was dollar box day). Yes for those of you who know, it is quite a feat to get Gabe up early...but I triumphed today, though he did sleep in the car all the way to Greeley.
I love book sales, you should seriously see my house there are books everywhere...from fiction to comic books...I could really open my own bookstore. I have actually thought about it from time to time.
Anywho this is turning into one of those blogs that you post, b/c you have nothing else to talk about. I will leave you all with a poem by my favourite author.
Buddha
I used to sit under trees and meditate
on the diamond bright silence of darkness
and the bright looke of diamonds in space
and space that was stiff with lights
and diamonds shot through, and silence
And when a dog barked I took it for soundwaves
and cars passing too, once I heard
a jet-plane which I thought was a mosquito
in my heart, and once I saw salmon walls
of pink and roses, moving and ululating
with the drapish
Once I forgave dogs, and pitited men, sat
in the rain countin Juju beads, raindrops
are ecstasy, ecstasy is raindrops-birds
sleep when the trees are out light
in the night, rabbits sleep too, and dogs
I had a path that I followed thru piney woods
and a phosphorescent white hound-dog named Bob
who led me the way when the clouds covered
the stars, and then communicated to me
the sleeping of a loving dog enamoured
of God
On Saturday mornings I was there, in the sun,
contemplating the blue-bright air, as eyes
of Lone Rangers penetrated the dust
of my canyon thoughts and Indians
and children and movie shows
Or Saturday Morning in China when all is so fair
crystal imaginings of pristine lakes, talk
with rocks, walk with a Chi-pack across
Mongolias and silent temple rocks in valleys
of boulder and tarn-washed clay,-shh-
sit and otay
And if men were dyin or sleepin in rooftops
beyond, or frogs craoked once or thrice
to indicate supreme mystical majesty, what's
the diff? and I saw blue sky no different
from dead cat-and love and marriage
No different than mud-that's blood-
and lighted clay too-illuminated intelligent
faces of angels everywhere, with Dostoevsky's
uneased praying in their X-brow faces,
twisted and great
And many a time the Buddha played a leaf
on me at midnight thinkin-time, to
remind me 'This Thinking Hass Stopped,'
which it had, because no thinking was there
but wasn't liquidly mysteriously brainly there
And finally I turned into a diamond stone
and sat rigid and golden, gold too-didn't dare
breathe, to break up the diamond that cant
even cut into butter anyway, how brittle
the diamond, how quick returned thought,-
Impossible to exist
Buddha say:
'All's possible'
-Jack Kerouac-"Pomes All Sizes"
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